


Quiet Moments

by ultharkitty



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:19:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet and Optimus catch a final few joors together before the final push to take Kaon.</p><p>Contains p’n’p interfacing, melancholic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Moments

The shelling never stopped. The bunker shook, stone dust trickling through a crack in the wall. Ratchet slumped beside Optimus, weariness written on both their faces. Each spark-pounding tremor thudded through their tanks, it shook wires and jolted hydraulics. Each impact vibrated through the cables which joined them together.

Ratchet sighed, and leant more heavily on Optimus’s arm.

Four joors of downtime; it was all they could afford. Holed up in this makeshift shelter, exhausted and drained. There was no option but to recharge, to defrag. They needed it, before the final push.

They needed this too. Small surge of energy through the connection, thrumming in time with the fluctuations in Optimus’s spark. And Ratchet responded, sending a flush of warmth through Optimus’s sensor net, the ghost of a caress to ripple from his helm to his feet.

“Save your strength.” Optimus spoke softly, and even in the confines of their temporary shelter, his voice was almost lost under the muffled din of battle.

Ratchet did it again, then ran his fingers along the underside of Optimus’s arm shield. The Prime shuddered.

“Ratchet…”

“Three joors, five breems and seventy one astroseconds,” Ratchet said. “It could be all we have.”

Optimus nodded; his optics dimmed, and the reduction in light softened the dents and scratches which covered his frame. “We have come this far,” he said, but he didn’t finish his thought, and Ratchet wondered what it was he was seeing. Did he look on an inner battlefield, a simulation of Kaon, the siege, the fliers with their bombs, the Autobots still fighting for their lives or catching one last moment of rest.

Was he running through strategies, tactics, contingencies, preparing for tomorrow as best he could? Or was he focused on the present, on the tingling rush of energy that flowed between them, on Ratchet’s manipulation of his every last sensor.

 _Let yourself enjoy this_ , Ratchet thought, but it was a selfish impulse; let them have this one last moment of intimacy, without distraction. Let them forget about the past, the armies, the wounded, the enemy, everything but each other. Just for a breem.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Optimus sighed. “The war, the losses… we should never have let it come this far.”

“But we did,” Ratchet said, and it felt for a moment as though their roles were reversed, as though a little of Optimus’s magnanimity had leeched through the connection, and a measure of his own regret had gone the other way. He sent another burst of warmth, his fingers tightening around Optimus’s arm.

A rush of comfort in response, a fierce glow of affection and respect. If only they had the energy to bring each other to overload, but that was another selfish thought, and Ratchet repressed it. Better to encourage the drowsiness, make the most of this last quiet moment.

Optimus shifted, relaxing, his hand on Ratchet’s thigh; the energy still thrummed between them, but it was softer, less controlled.

“Whatever happens,” Ratchet said, his voice crackling and quiet. “We did our best. _You_ did your best.” He leant his head against Optimus’s shoulder and took his optics offline. “It’s been a tough road, but there’s no-one I would rather have travelled it with.”


End file.
